Abercrombie bristled at the thought and walked away.
When Katie and Zach came out of a viewing room, Katie said, her brow creased, “Can you believe him? Abercrombie must think we’re totally stupid. The man’s lying through his teeth—about pretty much everything.”
Zach concurred. “We should’ve just arrested him on the spot—with Pimentel following in his footsteps on solid RICO charges, at the very least.”
“I agree,” Landon told them. “But it made more sense to let him sweat it out a little longer. Pimentel too, while giving them more rope to hang themselves. Meanwhile, let’s keep an eye on Abercrombie. Something tells me that beneath the cool-as-a-cucumber facade, he’s a rather loose cannon that Pimentel isn’t afraid to utilize in whatever way he sees fit.”
* * *
RAQUELLE SAT INthe auditorium, offering a few comments and words of encouragement as her student actors performed on stage. Each clearly took their roles seriously, wanting to both please her and use the opportunity as a stepping stone for their future aspirations in the entertainment industry or otherwise.
I only wish I had been as gung-ho in what I wanted to do with my life when I was in college, Raquelle thought enviously as she sat next to the Department of Theatre Chairperson Yves Deutschman. She glanced at him. In his sixties, he was rail-thin and had silver hair in a short fringe style and a Balbo beard. His gray-blue eyes were focused on the performers.
Raquelle turned back to the stage. Though she had generally been career-oriented through the years, having a family was every bit as important. She understood that now and hoped it might actually become a reality, seeing that her one true love, Landon, was back in her life. And he seemed to want the same thing as a future parent who could introduce his progeny to his own mother and stepfather.
That family also extended to her brother, Eddie, who was out there somewhere, being chased by bad guys. He would have to stop running at some point and let them in.
At least Raquelle wanted to believe this. Her biggest fear was that he would run out of time and those out to get him would be successful, thwarting Landon’s efforts to hold them accountable for any art crimes they committed.
Raquelle pushed that thought aside and applauded when the performance was over. As the students high-fived each other, knowing that they had aced it, possiblysurpassing even their own expectations, Yves bellowed excitedly, “Bravo, bravo!”
Raquelle laughed. Naturally, she had to follow suit—keenly aware that it would reflect well on her—by mimicking him, “Bravo!”
At that moment, her cell phone buzzed. Raquelle removed it from the pocket of her bouclé jacket. She saw that the caller was Jay Locklear, Eddie’s friend from the reservation.
Getting up from her seat, Raquelle walked down the aisle, away from the stage, and answered the call. “Hey, Jay,” she said attentively.
“Eddie was here,” Jay spoke tonelessly.
“Really?” She composed herself. “When?”
“Since shortly after his boat exploded,” he responded matter-of-factly.
She lifted a brow. “But you claimed Eddie wasn’t there when Landon and I came to the Catawba lands…?”
“I know.” Jay took a breath. “Eddie asked me not to say anything if anyone—including you—came looking for him. Since it wasn’t my secret to tell, I respected his wishes.”
Though Raquelle understood his loyalty to her brother—and breathed a sigh of relief in knowing that Eddie was indeed alive—she had to ask, ill at ease, “So, why are you telling me this now?”
“Because Eddie’s left the reservation,” Jay replied. “He didn’t tell me where he was going—though I gave him some money to work with—and I didn’t ask. But I thought you deserved to know at least that much.”
“Thank you, Jay,” Raquelle expressed sincerely.
“Hope Eddie gets everything straightened out,” he stated.
“We both do,” she told him.
Raquelle added Landon to that list as well. Knowing that removing himself from the sanctuary of the reservation meant that Eddie had once again placed himself in danger. Assuming he had chosen to return to Falona County and the line of fire, bombings, and gunshots aimed squarely at him.
Chapter Sixteen
On Saturday morning, the FBI Art Crime Team’s dedicated special agents were on the verge of raiding a storage facility rented by Ivan Pimentel on Atlas Road in Columbia while executing a search warrant for stolen and counterfeit Native American art. They were backed by detectives from the Columbia Police Department’s Investigations Division.
Landon suspected that Pimentel had emptied out his warehouse downtown on Baldwin Road and hidden whatever he could that was illegal in the storage unit—while waiting for the heat to die down.
Dream on, Landon thought with sarcasm, knowing that the heat was about to get much hotter for the crooked art dealer as the investigation moved toward its conclusion.
He recalled the day before when Raquelle shared the news that Eddie had been holed up at the Catawba Nation reservation. Eddie had apparently been spooked enough after his pontoon was blown up to feel that his safest bet was to duck out of sight somewhere Ivan Pimentel and associates would be least likely to be welcomed in trying to locate him.
